


Skirt

by Naina



Category: U2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-23 12:51:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/250498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naina/pseuds/Naina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a comment in a now-defunct October-era RPG on LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skirt

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I plead the fifth. Er, no, wait! Not mine. Not true. I made it all up, I swear! Thanks go to la_woman for beta-reading.

Larry was arranging his sleeping bag on the motel bed when there was a tap on the door, followed by Adam calling for him. Hoping this didn't mean Bono was too drunk to get the key in the lock, he opened the door cautiously. Adam stood there, alone, wrapped in a blanket and looking somewhat apprehensive.

A blanket? Even early March in Florida, at night, it was too warm to go around like that. "Are you okay?" He reached out and felt Adam's forehead. Perfectly cool. "You're not sick, are you?"

Adam smiled a little. "No, I'm fine. Can I sit down, though?"

"Of course." Larry let him in and closed the door behind him. "Are you cold? I thought it was warm in here, but if you don't..."

"Oh, no." Adam perched on the side of the bed, careful not to sit on the sleeping bag. "Ehm. Bono told me about something you said a few nights ago. It had to do with me in a skirt?"

Larry slumped in the middle of his bed, rolling his eyes. "He just can't keep his mouth shut, can he?" He heard Adam snort and added, "It was you in a dress, actually."

"Right. Well, he got it in his head to see if you meant that." There was the rustling of heavy cloth, and Adam sighing. "He dragged me to the thrift shop and everything."

Larry looked over at him, ready to yell. At first, he didn't notice anything odd; Adam had discarded the blanket to show the blue and white striped button-down shirt he wore. It was more conservative than anything Larry had seen his friend wear, but it wasn't that shocking. Then Adam cleared his throat and crossed one leg over the other.

One bare leg over the other. One leg, smoother than a man's usually was--

"Did you...shave your legs?" Larry squeezed his eyes shut before he could take a closer look.

"Yes." Adam said dispiritedly. "They already itch."

His eyes opened of their own volition to take in Adam scratching his shin and scowling. Adam had long runner's legs; Larry thought he'd run track or cross-country for one of his schools years ago. Right now, those legs were smooth as a girl's and naked to mid-thigh. "Is that a skirt?"

Adam nodded and stood up, kicking the blanket out of his way. Larry made a small choking noise, swallowed, and stared.

He'd always thought girls looked cute in those swingy, plaid Catholic school skirts. It turned out there was at least one boy - man - who looked just as good in one, if not better. The navy and green plaid would have ended nearly at the knee on most teenage girls, but on a tall, lanky man like Adam, it reached only to a few inches above his knee.

Christ. He should've known he'd regret saying anything to Bono. "This was all Bono's idea?"

Adam looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Mostly, yeah. He claimed that you'd said if I wore a dress, you might be able to deal with fancying a bloke." He put his hands on his hips, not seeming to care that he was wearing a skirt - one that was normally seen on schoolgirls - at all.

"I think I said that if you wore a dress, I'd have something to work with." Larry wondered how was he supposed to NOT stare at Adam's legs. They seemed impossibly long and were evenly tanned from spending as much time as possible in the sun. "Same thing, I suppose," he added absently.

"He wanted to recruit some local girls to help him find a proper dress, put makeup on me and everything," Adam admitted, sitting carefully on the sleeping bag, a little closer to Larry. "Probably even a wig and shoes. Try to get me so dolled up you wouldn't know it was me." He picked at the hem of his skirt and slanted a glance at Larry. "I told him to fuck off, that that wasn't fair."

Larry felt the muscles in his jaw twitch and looked away. "Hope he listened. I'm glad you refused, then."

They sat in uncomfortable silence before Adam spoke again, hesitantly. "Does this work?"

"What?" Larry blinked as Adam gestured to his lap and legs tucked under him.

"Me, in a skirt. Is this something you can work with?" For someone who'd had more shags than the rest of them - okay, Bono and Edge - combined, Adam sounded awfully unsure of himself. Larry moved his gaze above Adam's waist to find his friend's features open and honest. There was hope and caution and trust. Adam fancied him. Adam fancied him enough to do this if it got his attention and made him more comfortable.

"Yeah." He reached out and nervously stroked fingers over an ankle. "I can work with this." At the second pass, Adam stifled a giggle, his ankle jerking away from Larry's hand. "Ticklish?"

Adam's laughter echoed in his head long afterwards; as he ran his hands up strong, lean legs; as he tugged Adam's shirt from his waistband; as Adam showed him how different yet familiar it was to kiss a boy.


End file.
